


One way in, One way out.

by Silvyia



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: F/M, M/M, There will be male on male, so you have been warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-27 05:16:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5035294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvyia/pseuds/Silvyia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Thanks to Sisterawesomeness for the idea!) A younger mercenary is recruited onto the RED team. He makes friends, enemies, and even a couple of love interests while there. Can he actually win the war?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I look up at the tall building in front of me. It looked as though a five year old had made the building plans. There was a main building, it was right in the center of the mess that I was assigned to be staying at. There were planks of wood strewn about randomly, and I questioned how stable the building must have been.

 

“Well, come on,” the woman next to me called, walking ahead. She had introduced herself as “Miss Pauling”, and said she was the one who had hired me. Or, rather, she was working for the person who had hired me. She wouldn't give too much information about herself away, but she seemed nice enough to earn my trust pretty quickly. She was cautious but kind.

 

“This is where I'll be working?” I asked, hesitant. I trusted the woman, sure, but this building looked pretty much broken down. Not to mention we were in the middle of a desert, in Mexico, I believe. The temperature was much warmer than I was used to, but it would be fine. I was used to getting accustomed to new areas and climates by now. The job of a mercenary has me constantly moving from place to place.

 

“Staying, yes,” she corrected me, stopping to turn and look as she spoke. “But don't worry- there are others living here, so you won't be alone.”

 

“That's supposed to make me happy?” I mumbled under my breath. Miss Pauling briefly asked what I had said, but I waved it off and continued walking, following her and eying the building the whole way, as if it was going to fall at any moment.

 

“So,” I began, halfway through the walk. It was at this moment I saw another building right across from it, almost the exact same, except in the color scheme. “I will be working with other people, in this building?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“How many others?”

 

“Nine.”

 

“All of them are mercenaries, like me?”

 

“Ask them yourself.”

 

I sighed. She was still being cautious with her answers. Which, as a mercenary on the run, I knew that it was a good trait to have, but only now had I realized just how aggravating it could be.

 

“All of them are male, I assume?” I ask, trying to get more information about the people I would be living with for a while.

 

“Yes,” came her short reply.

 

She walked quickly, but surely, as if she was in a hurry but didn't want to show it. Unfortunately for her, I'm very good at seeing past peoples' acts, and seeing their true motives. All by looking into their eyes.

 

Pauling's eyes were dark, they held a secret that she was protecting, though they sparkled in the light and shone with colors at different angles. She's a nice person deep down, I can tell, but the more she protects this secret of hers, the more hesitant I am to trust her. What kind of secrets is she keeping?

 

“Alright so let's get down to business,” she sighed, as though she knew I was biting back a couple of questions. She stopped in front of the door to the base, protected by a barrier of chain doors with a multitude of locks. Obviously there was something in there that Pauling didn't want outsiders to see. She turned in front of me, and looked up at me. I was taller than her, but she didn't seem to be shaken by this. She must have experience dealing with bigger people. She is, after all, a very small and petite woman.

 

“Wha-” I began a question, but she interrupted.

 

“You are a mercenary. You were hired by The Administrator, her name will be kept hidden for now, and I was sent to pick you up and escort you to where you will be working.” I kept quiet, listening to her rant, and remembering anything I hadn't already known by now.

 

“You will be working here,” she continued looking me in the eyes, not turning her whole body to point behind her at the building. “at the RED base. You will be working with nine other mercenaries, all of them already have experience here and have been working for me for a while now. They will tell you what else you need to know,” she finished talking and continued staring me in the eyes, daring me to speak back.

 

 

“Alright.”

((tell me if you want me to continue this! :D))

 


	2. Chapter 2

((Forgive me, I'm not very good at writing accents :U))

Miss Pauling had left as soon as I walked through the front door. Told me if I found someone they could help me out, or I could wander around and learn on my own. I'd decided it would be better to learn on my own, seeing as there was no one around at the moment anyway.

 

That was about fifteen minutes ago. I had began walking around for about 10 minutes, now, the first five were just me looking at all the intricate details of the first room I was in. It seemed to be a long hallway, and as bare as it looked at first glance, you could see little designs graved into the wood if you looked closer. I traced the images lightly under my hand as I walked down the hall.

 

Now in another room, looking like some kind of living room, I could hear faint voices. I couldn't make out what they were saying, due to the distances. Naturally I would have moved away from the voices, to be on my own, but my curiosity got the better of me. I stalked closer to the sound, keeping my own footsteps quiet and my breathing even.

 

“-got no idea, man,” a voice said. He seemed to have some kind of accent, though at this distance I couldn't quite tell what kind.

 

“-said ve vere going to have visitors?” I heard another voice. I could clearly tell this one had an accent, and judging by the tone of their voice, they were confused about something. Though I could tell it was a clear German accent.

 

“Not visitors, ya idiot, another merc is comin'.” Boston. I could make out his Bronx accent now. The fact that they were speaking about another mercenary coming meant they were probably talking about me. So Miss Pauling had told them I was coming, then. Good. It saves me the time of having to explain why I'm here. It didn't, it seems, save me time on explaining who I was.

 

“I vonder who it vill be?” The German accent sounded more excited than confused, now. Though I could tell it wasn't simply for meeting a new person. There was a slight edge to his voice, a tone I couldn't quite put my finger on.

 

I suddenly felt a familiar feeling. A small tingle began at the base of my spine and traveled up, making the hairs on the end of my neck stick up. There was someone watching me.

 

I turned quickly, looking around the room. I didn't have to turn far before I saw them. A person, their gender couldn't really be told from their physical suit, was standing on the other side of the room, in a full flame resistant suit and a mask, accompanied by rubber gloves and boots. A gas tank was strapped to his back, and in one hand he was holding what seemed to be a flamethrower, with a bloodied axe attached to his belt. The blood on his axe was long dried, so it wasn't new. I crouched slightly lower to the ground, ready to jump or to run if he decided I wasn't a friend of his. Though he didn't move, other than the slight tilt of his head, as if he were a curious dog.

 

For a moment, neither of us spoke. I could hear the conversation going on on the other side of the door, but I drowned it out and payed full attention to the person in front of me.

 

“Who are you?” I spoke quietly, still in a crouched position. He took a small step forward, and I took a large step back. He seemed to take the hint and took a step back. Though he didn't answer my question. He simply turned and walked through the door, closer to the voices. I assumed he was going to walk away and leave me be, but at the last second he grabbed onto my wrist and dragged me through the door as well. I gasped in surprise but silenced myself when I saw the people in the room. I did an automatic body count, something I've become accustomed to as a merc on the run, and counted five people. Two of them were standing, one with their hands on the table and the other was on the other side of the room. They all looked up at the door when it creaked open, and all their eyes were on me by the time the door slammed shut.

 

The man standing away from the rest of the group, standing by what seems to be a coffee machine, straightened his back and set his coffee mug down on the counter silently. Other than the small _ting_ the cup made when it hit the metal counter, everything was silent. I felt very uncomfortable being the center of attention, but I forced myself to instead focus on their characters, and gauge their reactions.

 

The man in the flame suit looked back at me and seemed suddenly giddy, as if he were proud of what he had done. Fucker. He was still holding onto me, though by this time he was almost holding my hand instead of my wrist.

 

The man at the counter cleared his throat awkwardly, and held up his hand in greeting, the other going behind his back formally.

 

“Hello! You are ze newest recruit, yes?” The German accent I heard from before. He smiled happily, showing his white teeth in the process.

 

“I suppose so,” I responded shortly. He seemed slightly shocked at my response, but I gave no reaction and showed no emotion whatsoever. I can't trust any of them right now. Part of me knew that I had to stop this habit of mine, stop being so untrusting with everyone I meet, but the other part of me knew it was logical and the safest thing to assume.

 

“Ah, vell,” he cleared his throat once more and I almost cringed at the position I was putting him in. He walked forward and I stayed still, watching him silently. Once he was close enough, closer than I was comfortable with, he held out his hand once more, this time for me to shake. Classic greeting. “I am ze Medic. You are?”

 

I pulled my hand from the flame retardant suited man, and shook his hand, staring him in the eyes. He stared right back. His eyes were a bright blue, pale almost, and they sparkled in the light. He was trustworthy, but he held something more sinister behind closed doors. He smiled a genuine smile, but I could see something deeper.

 

I smiled. It was a fake smile, but I've learned to perfect it over the years. It is easier to fake a smile once you've been doing it for so long.

 

“Call me Josh.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ((honestly I have an idea for his love life here, and I can't wait to get to it. Also, I will be writing my own theories and ideas in, so if this stuff is either unconfirmed or not canon, don't worry about it.))

 

 

I met them all after that. Or, rather, I met the five that were in the room, including the fire suit man. I did small background checks on the each of them. I did my own research and decided whether I could trust them or not.

 

The Medic- his name is unknown so far, but I'm determined to learn it sooner or later, through whatever means it takes. He was born and raised in Stuttgart, Germany, though I could already tell that by his accent. He was, obviously, the resident medic around here, though it seems less like he's healing people and more like people got healed as a side affect of what he was doing. He doesn't seem like the kind of person that would talk about you behind your back, so I pretty much deemed he was almost trustworthy. I'd still have to properly know him before I can tell whether he can be trusted or not. Also cute. He's pretty cute.

 

His eyes are interesting, to say the least. I could see something deeper, but it's hidden well. He might be able to be trusted with smaller things, but not with deeper secrets. Not yet, at least. Not until I can find out what is hidden in his blue-green eyes.

 

The Scout- he was the one with the Boston accent I had heard earlier. He was born and raised in South Bronx, Massachusetts. He was cocky and too sure of himself. He must have been bullied or talked down to in his childhood.

 

His eyes were a deep brown. They hid so many deep emotions, buried beneath this facade, this _mask_ he wears about being confident in who he is. Something happened to make him the way he is now, I can tell. His eyes shone, though, in the light- like a full, solar eclipse around the pupils. He was a bright kid, and he is a good person, I can see that. He needs a small push in the right way, someone to trust in before he can open up to anybody.

 

The Pyro- the mute that dragged me into what I was told is the “Rec. Room”. According to the Scout, it's where they “chill” in their free time. He had also said something about a sniper being around here, and said something about Australia but honestly I wasn't listening to him after that. Anyway- the Pyro. He wasn't a mute actually, he was just incoherent. All I could hear when he spoke was mumbling and blurred words. This was normal, judging by the reactions of the people around me, so I didn't question it. I, unfortunately, couldn't see his eyes through his gas mask.

 

He seems smart- or at least he doesn't seem like an idiot yet- and sure about himself, like he knows what he's doing. I suppose that counts for something. I was still wary of him, and didn't know if he was trustable just yet. He was bubbly and energetic, I learned that fairly quickly.

 

The Soldier. He was... crazy, for lack of a better word. He was unpredictable, and that unnerved me. I specialize in information, and to not know what I want to know made me uncomfortable. I can't say much about him yet, but I will learn more later.

 

And finally, The Spy. I was already wary of him when we made eye contact. His eyes were a dark blue, and unlike the rest of the people I had met here, they did not shine nor sparkle in the light. They were dark and deep, and empty. They showed nothing to me. He was protected against my prying eyes, and I couldn't place what kind of person he was.

 

“Spy,” he greeted me shortly, bowing his head just slightly. He never broke eye contact with me, and I could see the ghost of a smirk grace his face. He was reading me.

 

Never had I ever been read as well as I read others. He was the first to ever surprise me, that's for sure.

 

“Josh,” I mumbled, narrowing my eyes just slightly. I held out my hand to shake his, and he finally smiled. Instead of shaking my hand, he took my arm and lightly kissed the top of my knuckles. Nobody physically reacted to this, but the room did seem to be in a quieter mood than before. The joy and excitement of a new team member was muted now, and seemed to have been replaced with a kind of electricity in the air.

 

“It's a pleasure to meet you, _Joshua_ ,” he spoke surely and smug, smirking now. He dropped my hand, and it stayed slightly raised above my side, my knuckle tingling slightly. His French accent was clear and fluent, and he turned, leaving the room. The Pyro went with him, humming in a happy tune while he skipped after the Spy.

 

Though I couldn't help but notice how tight his hand was on his axe blade.

 

Before I could say anything about it, Medic and Scout both came up behind me and began talking. Medic placed his hand on my upper back, probably trying to reassure me. Soldier grinned and hit my back, hard. I stumbled forward slightly in surprise, but turned around and smiled gently. He was definitely someone I could become friends with, even with his mystery past.

 

“I like your moxie, kid!” He shouted, though he was right next to me, grinning madly. I couldn't help but smile further when Scout hit my shoulder lightly, nodding.

 

“Ya know, I gotta agree with Solda' here! Not many people stare down Spy like dat without shakin' in their boots,” he laughed.

 

So Spy was someone they didn't mess with. He was dangerous, I supposed.

 

I'll be the judge of that.

 

“Now, now,” Medic began, shooing Soldier away and smacking Scout's hand away from my shoulder. “Let's give zhem some space, ja?” I nodded a thank you to him and he smiled, clapping his hands together.

 

“Shall I zhow you to your room?”

 

I nodded, looking up into his eyes. I was a tall man, but he was taller than me.

 

“Sure.”


End file.
